


In a Garden Full of Angels

by unusquisque



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Abuse, Angry Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale is treated poorly, Garden of Eden, Gaslighting, Gore, Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), Heaven should unionize, Multi, Sodom and Gomorrah, Torture, Weirdly Meta, but the angels are also the bad guys, god is the bad guy, they/them pronouns for Uriel and Micheal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 21:48:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unusquisque/pseuds/unusquisque
Summary: In the beginning God created Angels and then took a wine break. She then let them loose in the garden of animals. This was perhaps a bad idea.This is inspired by some plurk conversations I had with a plurk friend (Thanks Skree!) about the Good Omens Angelic hosts. When you love trash pigeons but also those trash pigeons are not only probably incredibly socially mal-adjusted but also martial creatures who need a bit more of a firm hand from their boss. Or more time with their “mom”.Essentially, you know you’re the bad guy when you piss off the guy who would probably forgive you if you did ANYTHING ELSE besides try and kill him and his lover.





	In a Garden Full of Angels

(SHE who is called I AM sits at the beginning of time and space and all thoughts and sees things. There is the keystone, the original world. Here is the author, here is another author who articulates the _ Ves-Ka-Gan_ (those who hear the song of creation, the cry of the turtle. They also hear the darkside of creation, the scream of the bear). SHE who is called I AM hears none of these things because her purview and patronage is this little blue and gold orb and a few others and a myriad number of stars.

These stars will be named by those not yet born. They swirl and are named and written about and rewritten about. She loves them for it.

The stars are not entirely hers however. Hers are the angels. Hers are the demons, Hers are the human beings. Angels sing, demons dance and don’t sing, mankind makes music. It is, as the poets say “A full-proof plan.” 

Cue the dramatic laughter. 

There are things that every good story needs however. They need heroes (here is a simple snake already beloved by beings it will never see, here is her dove, cooing nervously, here are her humans, curious as cats on the tin roof.) They need antiheroes (Snake what are you doing here? Why did you drag the dove _with_ you? Oh snake. You are always slithering your nose into places it does not go!)

She boops the snake on it’s nose and the creature looks affronted. How dare. It is a noble creature. It is not booped.

And they need villains. Here she pauses and sighs and the snake sticks it’s nose where it does not belong and asks _Why do things have to be bad_. Because the snake is _just fine_ slithering on it’s own with it’s friends and staring at the cats and maybe stealing their mice.

SHE who is called I AM becomes angry. _Villains make heroes better. A good villain makes the heroes cleaner and for the keystone they need to believe in Good and Evil or grayish good and evil._

And the snake stares, tilting its head. _Do you believe in Good and Evil?_

For that she tosses the snake out the garden window with a hiss. Amid the garden of her characters there is a frog and a toad and a fly that buzzes off like an angry determined little boss snapping at the snakes and frogs and lizards and toads. Amid all the animals of the ark, I AM stares down at four dogs who sit eagerly waiting for her commands.

They are beautiful dogs. One is snowy white and sincere, Gold eyes focused and bright. One is brown and simple, nose already sniffing the kitchen floor. The third is brown and white and stares at the first two confused. The fourth is gray and white and her favorite. They are stronger than the neighborhood cats, they are bigger and scarier than the snake and the frog and even her dear little dove.

Sitting and regarding them, the gray approaches first and lays its head in her lap._Go forth and love each other and be kind to every creature._ She murmurs. _Love them and rule my garden gently and kindly. Be protective. Be loyal. Be loving._

The white is the first to leave, sniffing. The brown and white follows next and the little brown boy knocks into kibble and yelps his way out of the door. The gray stays and stares at her before slowly padding out the door looking back again and again. _Aren’t you coming?_

“Go on boy! I’ll be out in a minute!”

The gray bounds out. The phone rings. God rises, answering it. Her shoes sit on the floor and she moves to pour a glass of wine as she sits back down, “...Oh hey Karen!”  
Cue the music. Curtain rises.)  
Heaven ; Before Time Can Be Counted  
\---

If Aziraphale had to be honest with himself, the Archangels scared him. It was less about their purpose because he loved every creature. It was in his nature to greet every other angel kindly, to love them. So he did love them but they are-okay maybe not _scary_. Intense, devoted, loyal. They pace the halls in groups of two or three and people get out of their way. It’s not like Lucifer - the morning star passes through the hallway and angels - even the archangels - run in the opposite direction. Feet pad on cold stone floor except none of them have words for cold it is just decidedly uncomfortable.

They play a bit hard for him. Sitting on a bench working on something - no, he had been basking in her glory and grace and light, he gets no further before - yes - he has a note to make. Gold ink and paper appear and he writes something that is about to be lost to the ages as someone slams into him with a hard pat on the back that makes him yelp. Gold ink spills everywhere, all across his pure white robes. It sinks in and sets and yes he could miracle it away but staring at it and at the utter ruins of what he was working on he sits. Stunned.

“Hey! Aziraphale!”

“Gabriel.” The angel ruffled his feathers feeling that familiar tightening in his chest, trying to wipe off his hands, “...I’m afraid I can’t get up to kneel or do any of the other obsequious things I’m required to do there’s ink everywhere.” 

In robes of white and blue, the asshole (he didn’t know how the word plopped into his head and even if it wasn’t that bad, it wasn’t as bad as some of the things he could have called him) beamed and preened, halo hanging over his head as he shrugged his shoulders, “Well...you shouldn’t have been writing anyway that’s for Virtues and Thrones. Besides. White and Gold! You look really smart. Like Micheal, but don’t worry I won’t tell them.” he winked conspiratorially, as if this was a great thing he was doing.

Aziraphale was, to be fair, a bit fussy about his appearance. He was made a certain way and sudden changes were startling. He’d get used to it maybe (if he couldn’t get the stains out) but the smile he offers the superior hierarchy is one of wounded hurt. 

“...How would you like it if somebody came up and startled you if you were singing?” The principality burst out, “I was having a moment. I was at peace. How would you feel if you were having a moment and at peace and I just came up and startled you?”

There is something dangerous in the thing’s violet eyes then. Sitting across from him, Aziraphale pushed himself back several inches. They are intense. These creatures set above him (barely! He likes to declare to Camael when they are together. Barely above me!)

“I’d trust it was her will that I look this way.” Gabriel shrugged, rising, “That I was a part of her plan that I suffered. You trust that. Right principality?”  
That was the note to hit. Forget the brief stress in his chest, tension hit his wrists and his throat and he lowered his head because the one golden cardinal rule that they all lived by was that every single one of their actions was a part of her iron will. Even then, in the sands of time and space before it all begins, he cannot help but-

“I’m not asking if it would bother her. I’m asking if it would bother _you_ specifically. You like singing. You sing beautifully. Wouldn’t you feel upset?”

Forgetting their shared master, the other angel stared at him like he had plants growing out of his ears before shaking his head, “...You’re really weird dude.”

Catching the eye of another group of people, Micheal among them, the other angel bounded off, speeding to their side with a laugh, bodies slamming into each other. Together he and Camael got the stain out and when Aziraphale realized he had ink on his wings of all things, he might have cried. His friend, loyal to a fault and especially annoyed, helped him pluck out the offending feathers. They couldn’t change their wings without a lot, and it was a lot, of work. It was easier to go by hand.

He would never admit to crying.

“It’d serve him right if I tripped him up. Mr. always running everywhere.” Camael muttered, “What if I wrote Gabriel is a giant prick” in the stars for you? Would that make you feel better? I hate seeing you sad.”

Aziraphale sniffed, “...No. that’d make her mad. I don’t want you to get in trouble. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

“Right.” Camael muttered, “Sure.”  
\---

The archangels are clad in silver and red blood and Micheal still has the remains of wings in their hands. They are dropped, bone and feathers everywhere as those who remain in the wake of Lucifer’s rebellion huddle and cluster together. They leave footprints on the cold marble and blood drips from hair and wings. 

The metatron watches all of this with tears in his eyes as they kneel having fulfilled their purpose. Micheal sets their sword beside their feet and the others meet the metatron’s gaze and wait. 

Striding forward, the Metatron picks up the discarded wings that Micheal brought into the throne room like a trophy and stares at them. The lord of heaven’s battalions cringes, “I thought-”  
“Bringing this sort of thing to her Micheal? You are not a beast. This is a sad day.” Metatron paces away, hands behind him, “Now is the time for weeping and sad prayer. Clean yourselves up. You are not beasts!”

The word is shouted and God somewhere (drinking wine and staring out at the garden in horror as the other animals scatter beneath the dog’s teeth “...No, Karen. Keep talking this is important. What did Bill do next?”)

“She asked us to.” Uriel murmured, eyes on the floor, “She told us to. Micheal and Gabriel did what she asked us to do-”

“Bloodthirsty is for the morning star. You are not in danger of falling are you?” The metatron’s voice was ice and steel and all the cold things of the cosmos, “I should hope to not have to expel her favorites.” 

All four of them wince as if struck and rise, nodding stiffly. Micheal leaves first, sword hanging limply in their hand. Uriel went next, wiping gold tears off their cheeks. Sandalphon nearly tripped over the gore on the floor until Uriel caught him. They trailed out into the red and rainy sky (rain wouldn’t be really named until it hit the “Earth” Project) 

Gabriel lingered, turning back to the Metatron. Covered in the most gore, his (no, it’s. The metatron murmured. It’s an it. Never forget that) features had gone slack. 

“Can _I_ see her? Even if-Even if you don’t - please?” The angel stared, “I don’t understand what happened, those - they were our friends.” 

The Metatron raised a hand and lowered it before crossing his arms behind his back as the first of the archangels stared at his hands, “I don’t understand why we had to do it. It was her will…”

“And there you go you’ve solved it.” The Metatron smiled, “It was her will. These feelings are His work, Gabriel. You feel bad?”

“Yes.” Though he had been unable to articulate what bad was until just now, “My heart hurts. I didn’t want to do it. We were having fun. And a lot of people will be angry with me. It’s not my place to speak- just so many of them seemed so confused like they didn’t expect that maybe they didn’t know-”

“You are right. It’s not your place.” The Metatron moved forward and took the other Angel’s face in his hands, “...These feelings, as I said, are the work of the enemy. To resist them is to resist him. Yours is a hard road to walk but the others will look to you now, for leadership. This had to happen.”

“It did?” Yes. Simple words soothed, “...Well I mean of course it did. I’m a moron. The others - so - they _didn’t_ resist those feelings. So I should encourage those who remain to resist them so they don’t feel this…” He touched his chest, “...This pain.” He nodded, “That makes a lot of sense.”

“Go forth and tell the others to pray.” The Metatron’s eyes closed and her presence filled the room between them, “All this pain will be healed and even if you remember -” The metatron wasn’t sure and he hoped no, “Just remember. These feelings of weakness are not hers. They are the enemy.”

“...I will.” The angel smiled, “And I’ll tell the others too. They’ll listen to me.” He nodded, still dripping silver blood and the remains of feathers, hands stained with blood, “So we did a good thing today. I understand now. I get it I-”

He hesitated on the foyer, “...You’ll tell her right? We did good?” The unevolved creature stared at him, “...I’d like to see her. You know. Because it was her will but she wouldn’t want me to be in pain right? It’s still there. She’ll take it away?”

The metatron considered this, “I shall petition her for an audience little brother.”

“Okay.” Gabriel nodded, “I mean that’s all I can ask for and if she says no, I’ll remember. And I’ll tell the others. We’ll knock all those bad feelings out together!”

On the way back to his room he encountered Aziraphale and shook his head with pity. Crying. Someone didn’t get it. Good thing he knew. Good thing he was told. Tsking, he moved to lift him to his feet.

“...Get up Aziraphale and go and pray. These feelings you feel? They’re the enemy. C’mon.” He shoved at his shoulder, “...I know I feel them too but she said pray so we will and it’ll all go away.”

“...Will Cameal come back?” The principality lifted a tear stained face to him, “You tore his wings off. You smiled. You had sharp teeth. Why should I believe anything you say?”

“...Because she told me.” The lie isn’t a lie, not really, “And I’m going to see her and ask her more so. Come with me.”

“...Will you ask her to bring him back?” Aziraphale, “I don’t ask for much but please Gabriel they were my friend you have friends-”

“I have family. And you’re my family. So c’mon. We’ll go and figure this out.” Aziraphale imagined he saw those same teeth again, “...C’mon. Let’s go. We’ll figure it out. Just...don’t be sad anymore. That’s what Lucifer brought to us and that’s _bad_.”  
And pulling him along, he pulled him away to forgetting and oblivion.

(SHE who is called I am hung up with Karen and opened the door to the backyard to see the other little creatures scatter. She tsked and whistled. Going to a case she unlocked a case and pulled out four bowls. Hefting a bag of kibble, she began to pour amounts of kibble in each of the silver bowls as one by one the dogs moved forward. One tossed the remains of a bird to the side and she tsked before shaking her head.

She next set out seed, but her dove, her little dove backed away from her warily. The other creatures stared out from the corners of the garden warily. 

She sighed.

Moving back to the dogs she scratched the brown and white behind the ears before patting the brown one on the rump. The gray wagged its tail and she knelt to kiss his nose. The gold and white padded over and licked her face. 

“Good puppies. Did that mean old birdy startle you? Just remember, not this birdy.” She pointed at the dove that was nibbling unhappily at it’s birdseed, “Okay? Good boys.”

An alarm rang inside the house and God rose, “Shit. I gotta pull that out.” She bolted for the kitchen, closing the screen door. The white moved back into the garden. The others trotted away with the brown jamming his nose into the slats of the porch. 

The gray whimpered, staring at the door, tail wagging sadly. Passing by with a plate of meat, God blinked, “Bad dog! No begging!”

The gray whimpered and lowered it’s head before padding back into the garden, nipping at the dove who flew off to perch on the roof with a sharp cry. He found his siblings beneath the porch and curled atop them. Inside God watched TV and laughed at Amazon Prime’’s latest offerings.)  
\---

Sodom and Gomorrah; 

_You can’t let them tear it down, Sodom and Gomorrah is a triumph for my side._ Crowley’s annoyance was palpable, _Please, Angel. It’s easy for them to look at it then at me, I like being left alone it turns out!_

“...I didn’t have a choice.” Aziraphale clutched his few belongings to his chest, “Crowley, I really wish I had been able to stop them.” He had to believe She didn’t want this. Sodom and Gomorrah was ablaze with lightning and fire behind him. 

He couldn’t stop staring at the flesh peeling off of human bone and the eyes bursting from sockets. Maybe they had strayed a hair or two or three but it was nothing like this. This brought back memories of something that was somehow worse - but he was quite sure. Quite sure that nothing had been like this. Eve’s children burned, bones glowing amid the fire and lightning. 

Aziraphale saw a child burst into flame, shrieking and screaming as it dove into the dirt. Tears squeezed through his cheeks and he was determined, the next human he saw - he would save them. Hide them, Miracle them away and Gabriel and the others could be angry with him all they wanted…

Turning, he crashed into something fine and white.

His mouth filled with it. It ran into his eyes and filled the fine cracks of his robe and his human features as a voice laughed, “Careful brother! How does Lot’s wife taste?”

Aziraphale’s eyes went wide. His stomach rolled and he dropped to his knees only to realize he was kneeling in the file mound that had been Lot’s plain-sandaled feet.

He rolled out of it and puked, bile and the remains of dinner staining the sands. He screamed at that, “What did you do!?”

“Her rule.” Sandalphon snorted, “Don’t look so surprised. I mean you eat food. It’s perfectly safe.” 

Aziraphale stared at him.

“...What?” Sandalphon stared, “...What? Why are you looking at me like that she said _punishment_. She said _make an example._”

“Not-not like-” Oh God. There was still sand in his eyes, sand in his robe, sand in every part of him and he wanted Crowley and he wanted to scream as he bent to throw up again. 

Something white and pure and holy landed on the ground with a whump, kicking sand and salt back at the archangel and the principality. Aziraphale threw up his eyes, “Micheal!”

Micheal wore white and red armor and glee. Embers lit their hands and their sword was slung at their side, red hair blazing, joy on their face, “What’s going on? I felt angelic pain. Aziraphale? Why are you kneeling and...what is that coming out of you?”

“Ask him!” Aziraphale’s temper was flaring, “Ask that-that-animal!” Both Archangel’s eyes went wide but the horror of the situation had driven him mad, pushed him over the edge. That could have been Crowley, that could have - “Ask him! Turning people into salt! Humans! Her creations and - there are more! It’s in my mouth!”

“Take it easy Aziraphale-”  
“No! No I will not! That is monsterous that-That is a level of something the morning star would do!” He pointed and Sandalphon backed up, affronted and angry. His hands crackled with light as -

Gabriel landed between them. Four wings outstretched. The creature’s eyes were alight with lightning as he stared at Sandalphon and then at Aziraphale, “Let’s be calm. What happened?”

“Gabriel.” Aziraphale pointed, “Gabriel for Her sake punish him. Do something. Do something he’s turning human beings - transmuting them. We were told to never, never do that…” he gagged, “I can still _taste_ her…”

“_Taste_?” The leader of the archangels’s eyes widened. He turned, wings outspread, back to Aziraphale, “...Sandalphon is this true?”

“She said make an example!” Sandalphon, “I acted according to her will Gabriel. I acted according to-”

Gabriel didn’t say a word. Lightning broke the sky about them and the other archangel gasped as he vanished. Micheal said nothing, eyes opening slightly before standing behind their master as the other archangel raised a gentle hand to Aziraphale, “...I’m sorry.”

“Bring her back.” Aziraphale staggered to his feet, still dragging a hand over his face, “Bring her back Gabriel, you can do that. Petition her and you can bring her back. Lot was on our side. Gabriel please!”

Micheal and Gabriel exchanged glances, “...She said make an example.” Gabriel said finally, “Those were her orders. It will keep him on the path of righteousness. Go with them brother. Protect them. We’re almost done here.”

He vanished in a crack of ozone and lightning as Aziraphale trudged after Lot, wondering how he was going to explain.  
\---

Back in heaven, Sandalphon was sent to the Metatron for punishment and Micheal sat, staring at the glorious city being constructed for mankind at the end of the world. The archangel stripped off their armor and stared naked out their window, wings outstretched. Beauty personified.

“You know, I always liked you in that female corporation.” Gabriel was clad in a white and blue robe, staring at them from the door, “She made you beautiful.”

“It makes me wish you’d kept yours.” Micheal murmured, “Don’t get me wrong, to each their own, but you were...what’s a word. Cute?”  
“I could be persuaded to put it on for the night.”

“Not tonight.” Micheal wrapped their arms around their chest and their wings buffeted them from view, “...Tell me again what she said. Tell me again because Gabriel my heart hurts and I don’t want to be like the morning star. I don’t want to fall away from her.”

Crossing the room, Gabriel moved his hands through her wing feathers. She shuddered in response, wings collapsing just in time for his to wrap around the two of them, “...We are above them. Look at the city.” He spread a hand out over it, “It’s beautiful because we protect it. We have charge over it in her name. If you take charge, you have to make strong decisions. Decisions to protect Angels. And yes, humans. Lot’s wife will be an example.”

“Sandalphon?”

Now his chest tightened, “...Bury it. We can’t afford for any of them to think we’re weak, Micheal. He’ll be punished according to the crime. And was it that big of a crime?”

“It was disturbing.”

_Yes_. Micheal looked back to meet Gabriel’s lips with theirs as the two Angels held each other. Manifestations, gender, nothing has any meaning for them - their grace touched each other and they pulled apart, nestled safely with each other. _Yes it was._.

(“...I can’t imagine. I can’t apologize enough.” 

“You’re lucky your other two dogs stopped him. And that it wasn’t deep” God’s neighbor winced. Their arm was bandaged and red, “Look, I don’t want to get the cops involved if you show me you’re doing something about those animals. Why all four of them?”

God said nothing, “...I thought about getting rid of one of them but I can’t. They’re siblings Mark.”

“Do you have the time to take care of them?”

“I do. I mean I’m working from home now.” God shook her head, “I like animals. I mean...I care. They were abandoned. Four little puppies in a box. If you’d seen them…”

The neighbor sighed, “I want to see some punishment.” The neighbor pointed, “I want to know what you’re doing so that animal doesn’t get out.”

God takes the neighbor back to the backyard and points. The brown dog stared mournfully outside of a kennel whimpering. A muzzle, a thick leather muzzle, was put over his snout. The dog made a mournful noise and the neighbor nodded.

“I know you’re a soft touch. Four dogs though? That might be too much to handle.” The neighbor sighed. God shook her head, “They are sweet.”

“I just need to make more time for them.” God sighed, “...I had four dogs before. As a kid.”

“That reminds me. How’s the book going?” The neighbor winced, “...I hope you make a lot of money so when I sue I can get a lot of cash.”

“Ha Ha. Wait. Are you serious? Hey Mark. You’re not serious right?...”

The white and gray curled up like a yin-yang staring at the brown dog in the box. The brown and white one sniffed the box and shook it’s head, nose to tail.)  
\---

World War 2;

Out of all the Angels Aziraphale had to deal with, at least the ones with any degree of power, he would not have preferred to deal with Micheal.

That said, Micheal wasn’t looking happy. Staring down at the earth observation cameras, Aziraphale swallowed, “I’m sure they’ll sort things out.” He balanced on his toes, “...I mean they’ve been through worse.”

“And you’re sure there’s nothing you can do?” 

The question made him blink, “...I’m sorry?” he stared at them, “...This...this is in her plan. Micheal. I know it’s hard- but perhaps now you see why I’m-it’s hard to watch them in pain isn’t it?”

The white gold angel pursed her lips and shook her head, “Yes. It is hard to watch them in pain.” they murmured, “I have never seen a war like this since the fall.”   
‘  
Aziraphale felt his heart skip a beat, “...Is it because you’re there? On the front lines? Seeing all the soldiers?”

“And the children.” Micheal lowered their gaze, “...The children are all innocent. We’re filling our halls with children. They cry for their parents. I can’t take it.” They wiped a hand over their head, “...Though there is something we had thought of trying. A potential plan that Gabriel has seen.”

At the mention of Gabriel Aziraphale winced, shrugging his shoulders, “I suppose I could try it out.”

“...You might like it actually.” Micheal wiped away a tear from their powdered cheek, “...It-we’ll need your help. It’s a sort of secret mission. You’ll even get to arrange to kill some of those nazi bastards.”

“I don’t want to actually kill anyone.” he held up his hands, “I’d really rather let - I mean I’ll happily do it if it’s just nazis-”

“Then human beings can kill them Aziraphale.” Micheal thrust a thick file into his hands, “You can be a secret agent and actually enact her plan as we do. Read the file and trust in her will.” 

“Well.” a tremulous smile picked up over Aziraphale’s face, “For her will then.”

After he’d left, Gabriel appeared, adjusting his tie, “...You tell him about the plan?” he blinked, “He know to bring his sword? Good chance he’ll end up discorporated if he doesn’t.” 

“Hopefully he’ll read his notes.” Micheal’s tone was mild, “It’ll wake him up. The little bastard, roaming around on earth doing nothing.”

“He’s been good with his reports.” Gabriel shrugged, “But everybody needs a little wake-up call. If he is he is, I’ll just rush through his body request. If he doesn’t-”

“He’s going to get discorporated Gabriel.” Micheal rolled his eyes, “I regret training him in how to use that sword. It just sort of disappeared.”

“Maybe he’ll save it for this moment. Surprise us all with some martial behavior.” Gabriel sighed, crossing his arms, “...We could use it. This war is throwing me off. If it can happen what in Heaven’s name is he doing down there?”

“I haven’t the faintest.” Micheal murmured, “But if he were truly doing good this wouldn’t have happened. Human beings are too simple to want to murder each other like this.”

“You’re hoping he dies.” Gabriel murmured, “...Harsh.”

“...I’m hoping.” Micheal hissed, “He learns. I do not like this ...pain I feel.” They touched their chest, “...These feelings belong to the enemy.”

“Yes.” Gabriel murmured, “Yes they do.”

(God is working on a book which makes taking care of the Garden easier. She can leave when she pauses on a chapter to scratch the dogs and feed the cats and even feed the dove who coos and rubs its head against her fingers.

_I have a thought_ the snake emerged from the grass and curled up beside it’s mistress _You could spend a whole day with us. Or at least - if you’re not going to get rid of one of the dogs you could train them. They need to be trained._

God stared at the snake, _They’re just babies._

_One bit a man._ The snake snorted, it’s tiny nostrils flaring, _The others have eaten birds. We’re all unhappy. I don’t want them to eat anyone else. They’re growing bigger and soon they’ll be untrainable._

God hmned and gestured for the snake to leave, returning to their book as the gray dog watched the snake with loathing through the window.  
\---

England 2016;

Aziraphale is tempted to miracle the whole situation away because it hurts to watch.

It’s a grown man who has been run over by a car. A woman is screaming. There’s blood and bits and brain splattered across the car. The woman is holding his hands. She’s screaming. He’s seen death, just never this close to his haven from the world. His personal heaven (he’d think, if it weren’t so wrong.

“Aziraphale, can you come and explain these things to me please?” Gabriel has sent Uriel today and he’d be grateful for that if it weren’t for the wreck outside. He keeps seeing flashbacks - like camera snapshots of the entire situation. A pure accident. Nothing wrong with that.

“...I’m sorry it’s just - what happened outside. I can feel it. It hurts to think about.” He held up a hand, “I wish I had your sincerity. You seem to be processing the fact that a man just died outside rather well.”

The look Uriel gave him was cold. It was the stars and the cosmos wrapped up in nothing as they adjusted their light brown cream suit. How had he never fully noticed the long gold streaks across her dark skin?

She set the folder down.

“Aziraphale. There is something Gabriel and the others have danced around that I don’t have the patience for and that is your sense of weakness. These emotions you have - this...sadness and pain. Don’t you understand that it’s the _enemy_ making you feel this way?”

Aziraphale stared at them, “..._What_?”

“This. This...casual _emotion_ for them. How can we effectively watch over them if we allow feelings to blossom? We can’t. That’s the simple answer. You must strive to bury your emotions on this issue.”

The difference between the first time Aziraphale had this conversation and this time was that he knew what this feeling was called. _Empathy_. The ability to understand another being’s emotions. It was supposed to be what they were about. They were designed to love and be loving and this idea...this terrible cruel idea that they couldn’t have empathy? Or sympathy?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Uriel snorted back laughter, “I know it’s a complex subject but trust me. You’ll feel better and Gabriel will be pleased and that’s what you should want. He is very fond of you.”

Aziraphale gagged at the thought but kept his face placid and normal, “...Gabriel? Fond of me?”

“I can’t pretend to understand it. After all you’re not an archangel but.” uriel shrugged, “Now, come here and explain this to me?”

“...I can’t. Yet. Just-” He saw Crowley across the street making to cross and come to the bookshop, “Just give me a moment. I have to do something about this.”

He gestured weakly at the car wreck and Uriel sighed, pulling a book off the shelf that was work thousands of dollars and casually flipping through it’s pages. Aziraphale, stomach churning, threw open the door yelling to the street “Terribly sorry! Special client!” 

Crowley stared at him, eyebrow raised, before dawning realization hit. Amid the hustle of the accident he turned on his heel and left. Aziraphale made a note to call him and miracled the man’s head back together so he could be buried not looking like a sack of exploded tomatoes.

Returning back into the shop he found Uriel, arms crossed checking a piece of paper that had just appeared in their hands.

“An unauthorized miracle for an authorized death?” Uriel’s gaze pinned him to the wall, “...Tsk. Aziraphale. Tsk tsk. I’m reducing the amount of miracles you can perform for the next month.”

“-I-” _Oh Heavens._ “...I apologize.”

“...Just get over here and explain this to me.” Uriel muttered, “Idiot.”

(‘It’s not the Dove’s fault, and God is quite sure of it but at the same time she doesn’t know which one did it. 

The window is open, and there’s water and plants all over the floor. There’s a scared little dove sitting on the coffee table wings covering it’s face and the dogs are all outside frolicking in the garden chasing toads and flies. The snake watches from the window still and God drops it’s groceries as the Dove coos desperately, scared.

“Bad dove. Bad bad dove.” How did the dove get through the broken glass? “...Come with me. Let’s put you in your cage for a bit. No free flying. You’ll have to learn.”

Beneath the porch the brown and white dog licks wounds and the gray helps as the snake slithers through a hole in the porch.

_He didn’t do anything to you._ The snake’s tone is harsh, _And now he’s locked up. Don’t you remember when she put Sandalphon in the crate? Why would you do that to Dove?_

_I thought I saw a rat._ The dog muttered before looking to the gray, _I really did!_

_You heard them._ The gray growled, low in it’s throat, _Go away._

The snake slithered off before the other two could come padding forward and eat him. Snake spent the night atop of Dove’s cage slithering between the bars to talk.  
\---

How do you make a good story? God has a meeting with Her agent and they send off the manuscript pleased but then there is a shout from the garden and loud barking and an animal howling.Racing to the back God finds several things all at once - a boy climbing over the edge with a brown dog barking at him as the child jumped away, the snake is hissing at the gray dog while the dove pecks at the frog and toad. It’s chaos, it’s absolute damn chaos.

“Stop it! Stop it all of you!” The dogs snarl and growl and God wades in -

Just in time for the gray dog’s teeth to close around her forearm. Hard.

The scream shook the pillars of heaven and earth as blood dripped across the grass. God retreats back and the chaos stops as the dove hobbles away from the dogs and all the other animals hide - leaving the four dogs staring at each other. 

The gray dog, blood on it’s teeth, backs up and _snarls_ as it’s siblings form a circle - as far away from it as possible. There are no words. There’s just a hard yank on the creature’s collar as God drags the gray dog inside the house.

All the animals exchange glances. It’s over for now. The dogs cluster, whimpering, barking, as they return to their area staring anxiously after their brother.

God’s living room is done in tones of green and brown with several pictures of galaxies across the walls. God doesn’t so much toss the dog into the living room as she drags him there, the creature whimpering in it’s collar. Crawling onto the couch the dog wheezes and it’s bright purple eyes catch on an image of God and a beautiful Golden retriever. It’s fur gleams in the morning sun and the dog cringes as God returns with bandages and one word - the divine for any animal, any human being - “_**Off the couch.**_”

“It’s been the four of you tearing up my garden hasn’t it? Tell me.”

The dog said nothing. It moved forward and tried to lick at her arm before God spoke again, “_**No. Bad dog.**_.” God pushed the gray off and glared at the gray boy with a shake of their head.

“Tell me.”

_You told us to be in charge._ The dog murmured, _You told us we had to take care of everybody. We were doing what you told us._

“I didn’t tell you to eat my animals.”

_No but-_

“I didn’t tell you to eat my toad or my snake or my dove - that dove is a rescue-”

_We were doing what you-_

“I did not tell you to scare anyone.”

_We were doing what you told us!_ the dog barked, _You brought us here._

Another voice echoes through time and space, _You made us to do this_ You can’t just expect to leave something powerful alone to it’s natural instincts _This is what we’re supposed to do. Right?_

For a moment the dog became something else and God put Her head in her hands and dragged it over her bandaged forearm.

“...What are you saying Gabriel? It’s my fault?”

The dog whined and God staring at her good gray boy and all her others crowding at the door thought about getting rid of all of them.

It wasn’t the first dog she’d gotten rid of. Her gaze strayed to the dog in the photo and picked it up to stare at it, hands caressing the dog’s fur.

He had been soft.

_Please don’t get rid of us. Please don’t get rid of me!_ The gray dog whimpered, _Please! Please don’t!_

“You _bit_ me.” God glared, “I can’t have a dangerous dog. First Sandalphon and now you?”

The phone rang.

It rang, melodious and clear. It might have been Karen, it might have been Neil. It might have been Gavin or Jesus or Rochelle or any other number of God’s friends. She was going to go out tonight. Celebrate Gavin’s birthday, get ready for Christmas. Have a glass of wine, celebrate the book.

Except her good gray was staring at her, wide violet eyes focused intently on her face. She stopped, picking up the phone.

“...Rochelle I can’t tonight. One of the dogs and I -Look I just can’t. Okay? No. No. I have to go. Bye.”

The animals in the garden looked up sharply as God opened the screen door, “Uriel, Micheal, Sandalphon. Inside. Now.”

Dove stared at snake, perched in the branches of the bush, “I hate that I pity them.” Dove muttered, “They don’t deserve pity but she ignored them from day one. You don’t buy a pet because it looks pretty. You just don’t.”

“They bit her. Think they’ll get the boot?” 

“I don’t know.” Dove muttered, “And I don’t care. I tried to care but then Uriel blamed me for the mess in the kitchen and Gabriel has tried to eat me. Come on, let’s go find dinner.”

\---

Snake sees the dogs again, or at least he sees Gabriel. The dog looks older, heavier set, like he’s not getting as much exercise as he should. He’s asleep and the snake can’t help himself. He hisses, “Hey. Dog.”

The dog opens one eye tiredly and closes it’s eyes, “Go away I’m sleeping.”  
“What? No bark?”

“No.” The dog looked up and rose wearily before trotting to the window. The dog exposed a black collar, “...Choke chain. I bark I get choked.”

That made snake frown, “...Really?” he slithered further in, “...They do that?”

“Don’t pity me. I deserve it.” The dog sniffed, “We all do. We’re in training and then we’re house dogs.”

“You look terrible.” Snake murmured, “You look tired and fat and terrible. You should run away. Come and -”

He almost said _Come and live with us_ before he stopped himself, “...You should run away. You look sick.”

“She didn’t kick me out. She kept all of us. Do you know how rare that is?” The dog sniffed, “...We were nothing without her.”

Snake sighed, tilting its head, “...You have teeth and claws. You have four legs and humans love you look at you! You could stick together, be a pack.” His tongue slithered out, “...Sometimes you have to take care of yourselves.”

(Scene shift. God stirs in bed upstairs and smiles as the features of her animals in her little ark shift. There is a moral here.)

“She may have gotten rid of dogs before but I bet Lucifer was much happier once he got out.” Crowley muttered, “...You four could use that. You really do look awful.”

Gabriel shook his head and crossed his arms, “You have no concept of joy in service. I - I can’t imagine what it’s like to be without her.” He pointed a finger with celestial light glowing around him, “...And you know what hurts the most Crowley? I really can’t. I can’t imagine a world without her light and her Goodness.”

“You like Beelzebub. Isn’t that something to attach to? As...horrific as that may be?”

The archangel stared at him, “...I don’t want to fall.” the angel murmured, “...I don’t want to fall. I told you. Without her I’m nothing. She made me for this. She made all of us for this and that’s just it there’s nothing but the four of us just...sitting up here doing nothing.”

Crowley wondered why he had been cursed to meddle in the affairs of angels and demons and why the bloody hell he couldn’t be left alone.

“...So. You want out? Think. You want to stay? Think. I’m so tired of all of you not thinking for yourselves. You don’t need revolution to feel free? Then find a way to work within the system. You want to be servants your whole life?-”

“Someone has to-”

“No see? That’s the bloody point! Nobody does! If we got out then other beings can! You can go and...sit primly at your desk and go down to earth and just not involve us while you’re doing it.” He snarled, “I’m so tired of you lot, all stuck up and it’s starting to warp you. Hell you’re already warped! You’re more animal than angel and after what you did to Aziraphale I honestly don’t care if she erases you from existence. It is-”

He grimaces, “Taking everything in my power to say this but - for all of our sakes. _Get your fucking shit together_

Gabriel was aghast - “We-Why? Why do you even care?”

“Empathy! Dumbass! Empathy! And if she took that away from you? Then you need to ask yourselves if you really want to serve someone who thinks that understanding other beings is wrong. Or that you have to be tested so harshly to _learn_ it. Think about it.”  
\---

It happens on a sunday and the 6th year anniversary of the Apocanot and Crowley and Aziraphale are celebrating at a sushi restaurant. They’re having the boat and it’s perfect - when someone comes in to rob the store.

“Gimme all your money. Gimme all your fucking money man!-”

“Oh dear.” Aziraphale paused, “We should do something about that.”

“Why? Economy like this? We need to try…” Aziraphale got no further as a man in a gray overcoat tapped the thief on the shoulder as the man yawned, staggered backwards and fell asleep. 

Waving his hand, the hostess and the chefs turned back to their work. Crowley stepped in front of Aziraphale, “...Gabriel.”

The archangel looked older, more tired, “Relax. I’m leaving shortly. I just wanted to give you this.” 

He didn’t look at Aziraphale, instead handing Crowley a thick white envelope, “...The thief has been handcuffed but I want to make sure you get him to the authorities.”

He tipped his head to Aziraphale, not meeting his gaze, before he strode away, stepping outside. There was a flash of light and he was gone.

Aziraphale stared at the envelope, “Should we open it?”

“Up to you. I don’t feel anything bad. It’s addressed to you after all.” He passed Aziraphale the envelope and tensed, ready to miracle whatever the angels had created. Aziraphale for his part let his hand hover over the envelope, noting the holy Archangel seal, before pulling it open and wincing back.

“...What is it?”

“To the former principality Aziraphale, now Independent Agent. On behalf of the heavenly hosts we are authorized to grant you 6000 years of back miracles. To balance the books, we suggest you use them on earth to better the lives of human beings and yourself. Thank you for your service and merit to the cause of the care and keeping of human beings. You are relieved officially of your post with honors and welcome to return as and if you see fit.

Warmest Regards-”

Warm gold light filled the room and Aziraphale sighed, warm and filled with light, “...Wow.” 

“...They gave you them all back? No tricks?” Crowley raised an eyebrow, “After all that...How do you feel?”

“...Amazing!.” Aziraphale closed his eyes. “_Just Amazing_ Oh Crowley. It’s like _sunlight_.”

“6000 years of back miracles. All those times they told you to shut it huh?” He raised an eyebrow, “...Still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“It’s signed by her too.”

Crowley stared, “What?” 

“Look.”  
\---

Somewhere in Lower Tadfield a woman sits on the porch with two dogs in her lap and two more frolicking in the star light. An angry fly swings too close to Dove and Snake before something barks and the fly buzzes off.

Staring down at snake and dove, the gray dog nods mutely before trotting back to it’s game with the white and gold dog.   
Snake and Dove stare after him. The spheres of creation move. The Keystone keeps turning towards it’s conclusion. There is a place for everything. The good are made better by the actions of the villains and the villains, well sometimes the villains _learn_ because the ones in the keystone world often don’t.

Mankind at its heart is good. This She knows. This all things responsible for their creation know. If there was nothing to hope for there would be nothing to live for, and if there was nothing to suffer for then why live?

God scratched the top of the gray dog’s head and opened the proof to her book, “Chapter One boys. In the beginning…”

**Author's Note:**

> Am I still on my Stephen King's Dark Tower connects all weird and wacky magic/occult canons bullshit? You bet your bottom dollar I am. Complain to your mama not to me.
> 
> One of the best things about Good Omens to me was when Neil said that there were really no good guys or bad guys just a lot of people who have absolutely no idea what the fuck they were doing. When the book came out it was about the cold war and the metaphors for mutually assured destruction are very obvious. I operate from a "people can woobify anybody they want" (I mean look at my trash angel loving self) but the fact is that nobody in this is a full on knock-down-drag-out bad guy.
> 
> That said, there is a degree of optimism and honestly I was two seconds from writing God sending the archangel doggies to the pound. I opted for happiness because reality is awful and I needed something relatively happy-ish.
> 
> The world needs to accept there are some people who chose a life of service and are happy in it. The trick is getting them to change masters.
> 
> These fics are always weird to write because I am a Christian and I do believe and that's personal but Good Omens God is a fucking dick.


End file.
